


In the Darkness: Elen Starr

by Ravenne_Vilyovantare



Category: Legacy- James A. Michener
Genre: 9/11 Historical Fiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20656544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenne_Vilyovantare/pseuds/Ravenne_Vilyovantare
Summary: The Starrs have a legacy of involvement in some of the most critical events of American history. The daughter of Major Norman Starr, Elen must face her own rendezvous with history when the World Trade Center is struck by airplanes.





	In the Darkness: Elen Starr

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I wrote this for my AP US History class and thought I'd share it. Quick word of warning though- this story is set in the World Trade Center on 9/11. If this bothers you, please don't read. This story was written with the utmost respect for the horrendous tragedy of that day, and I researched extensively with the intention of keeping as accurate as possible. However, I was not there, and, due to age, have no actual memory of the day. I thus apologize for any inaccuracies that may be present.

_ A concussion shook the air, like thunder erupting from the building itself. Glass fragments showered the room as tremors rippled through the walls and floor. Startled, I glanced over at Lilly, who had nearly been knocked off her feet. _

_ Wide-eyed, she turned to me in alarm. “What  _ was _ that?!?!” _

_ Chills ran down my neck, both from nerves and from the sudden breeze blowing through the shattered windows. “I- I don’t know.” My chest felt tight. “But I have a bad feeling about this.” _

_ **** _

I adjusted my bag as I stepped out of the subway station, blinking against the bright sunlight. The air was crisp, yet held the promise of afternoon warmth, tinged with the distinctive scent of early autumn. Breathing deeply, I tilted my head back to admire the clear cerulean blue of the sky. Although the morning was still young, the streets around me bustled with activity, horns blaring and voices chattering. I strolled towards my destination, slowing my typically rapid stride to lengthen my time outside, in no rush to sit in an office all day. 

Reaching the World Trade Center complex, I entered the South Tower, brushing back a stray lock of hair as I entered the lobby. Crossing to the elevators, I caught one just before the doors started to close. As I stepped in, I spotted my cousin Kelly working her way across the vast room. Related through our mothers, Kelly and I had been close friends for years, and she had recently taken a job working for Verizon on the ninth floor. Normally, we took the subway to work together, but she'd called last night to tell me that she might not make it to work today- her dog seemed to be coming down with something. I wanted to chat with her, but the elevator doors were already closing.  _ I'll just have to catch her later. _

After a few minutes, the elevator reached the sky lobby on the 78th floor, and I made my way to another elevator that would bring me to the 86th, where my office was located. Stepping into the room, I was greeted by a ringing telephone and a cheerful voice. "Morning, Elen! I'll get that." 

"Thanks, Lil," I replied as she reached for the phone. Like me, Lilly Arbor had been working as a tax information aide for the NYS Department of Taxation and Finance for nearly a year now, and we'd become good friends during that time. Setting down my bag behind my desk, I shrugged off my light cardigan and draped the blue fabric over the back of my chair. As I did so, I overheard Lilly's side of the phone call. "Oh, hello, Luke… I'm sorry to hear that… No problem, we can handle everything… Sure thing, we'll see you tomorrow." 

I looked over from my desk as she got off the phone. "That was Luke?"

"Yeah, he said his daughter's sick. Nothing too serious, but his wife's away, so he has to stay home with her." 

"That's never fun, poor thing.” 

"Who? Luke or Emma?"

"Good point," I laughed. Luke was our taxpayer service representative, a smart, genial man who hated missing work. He was no doubt itching to get back to the office and get something done. Speaking of which, I had my own work to do. “Have you gotten to the reports yet?”

“Not yet. Had a bunch of calls I had to take.”

“No problem. I’ll get them started.”

Opening a new document on my computer, I began to work on one of the reports. As I typed out the header, I hesitated, uncertain of the date. I scanned the desktop calendar beside my monitor, eyes landing on the first day not crossed out.  _ Tuesday, September 11, 2001 _ .

Nearly an hour later, I finished typing the report and sent it to the printer. I checked the clock as I rose to fetch the document; it was still only 8:46. “I’m done with this one. How’s yours-?” 

A sudden explosive burst cut me off, and both Lilly and I jumped. I whirled to face the windows, hearing my own sharp intake of breath. A gaping hole had materialized in the side of the North Tower. We exchanged a glance, both of us reminded uncomfortably of the news in 1993. “You don’t think that was a bomb attack, do you…?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t know. That’s a lot of damage, even for a bomb attack.” I leaned forward for a better view. Flames flickered, smoke obscuring the gash torn in the building and drifting on the wind.

The phone rang abruptly, startling us again. Lilly, standing closer to it, grabbed the receiver. “New York State Department of Taxation and Finance… Mom! What’s going on?...  _ What?!? _ ” She suddenly paled; covering the receiver with one hand, she exclaimed, “Elen! A  _ plane _ ! My mom says an  _ airplane  _ just crashed into the North Tower!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “What? How-? Is she sure? How does she know??”

“She lives just a few blocks away. She saw it from her window.” Speaking into the phone again, she continued, “Yeah… yeah, I’m still here, Mom… No, we’re fine… No, no, the South Tower’s fine… yeah, I’ll let you know what happens… Alright, I’ll see you later. Bye, Mom.” She hung up. “What do you think  _ happened _ ?”

“I- maybe it was an accident? It must have been an accident, some kind of malfunction. I mean, no one would deliberately crash a plane into a building… right?” 

“I… guess not. No, probably not," she agreed hesitantly. "What now, though? Is it safe to stay here, or should we leave?”

Thinking out loud, I began, “If it was just an accident, we’re probably fine to stay here. But if not…” I trailed off, before a thought struck me. “Let me call 911. Maybe someone’s issued official instructions or something.”

“Good idea,” Lilly replied, relieved not to have to make the decision. I rifled through my bag and located my cell phone, a Christmas present from my parents. Flipping it open, I dialed 911.

A man’s strained voice answered. “911, what is your emergency?”

“I’m in WTC 2, and WTC 1 just had… an… explosion, or something. I’m not sure exactly what happened, but there’s a massive hole in the building , and I think there’s a fire inside, and-”

“Yes, ma’am, we are aware of the situation at the World Trade Center, and emergency responders are already on their way. The Port Authority recommends that occupants of WTC 2 remain in the building, as they are not in immediate danger.”

I should have felt relieved, but a sense of unease still lingered. “I see. Thank you, operator.” Ending the call, I repeated the information to Lilly. She looked out the window again.

“I would say we should go,” she began, “but everything’s getting so chaotic out there. We might be better off waiting it out.”

Joining her at the windows, I looked out myself. She was right; the streets were flooded with emergency vehicles. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Guess we might as well get some more work done.”

Sitting back down at my desk, I started braiding my hair to work out some of my nervous energy. Tying off the braid, I glanced at the clock. 8:53. Only seven minutes had passed since the plane crash, if Lilly’s mother was right, and yet it felt like an eternity. I tried to work on another report, but found myself rewriting the same line ten times over. I shook my head.  _ Focus! _ Life went on, crazy plane accident notwithstanding; I had a job to do. Still, my eyes kept straying to the window and the haze of smoke visible outside. Lilly remained standing by the windows, seemingly unable to tear herself away. Suddenly, she made a sort of choking noise. “Elen! There’s people trapped up there!”

“What?” I felt my hands go cold.

“At the hole. There’s people hanging out of the building. I think- I think they’re trying to get away from the fire! There must not be a way down… Oh, Elen, this is awful!”

My stomach churned. “Lil,” I forced myself to say, “there’s nothing we can do. It’s horrible, but there’s absolutely nothing we can do. Why don’t you come sit down and, maybe, do another report or something? Or- maybe you could graph the data from that last study?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she murmured distractedly. I sighed again, checking the time. Only 9:02. This was going to be a very long day. 

Moments later, as Lilly was turning from the window, an announcement came over the PA system. _ “All occupants of the South Tower evacuate the building immediately: all occupants of the South Tower evacuate the building immediately.” _

“Scratch that,” I remarked, closing my report file and instructing my computer to shut down as I pulled on my cardigan. “Shut down your computer and let’s get out of here.”

“Not a minute too soon,” she replied, walking over towards her desk. “I’ll be glad to-  _ whoa! _ ”

A concussion shook the air, like thunder erupting from the building itself. Glass fragments showered the room as tremors rippled through the walls and floor. Startled, I glanced over at Lilly, who had nearly been knocked off her feet.

Wide-eyed, she turned to me in alarm. “What  _ was  _ that?!?!”

Chills ran down my neck, both from nerves and from the sudden breeze blowing through the shattered windows. “I- I don’t know.” My chest felt tight. “But I have a bad feeling about this.”

Snatching up my bag, I darted to the door, Lilly close behind. Outside, the air was hazy with smoke, every window shattered and objects scattered about. Other doors began to open as our fellow employees came running to find out what had happened. A full thirty seconds of talking over each other later, we realized that none of us knew what had happened. Athought came to me, and I suggested, “Why don’t we go down to the sky lobby on the 78th floor? We can check the news on the TV down there.”

With no other suggestions made, the twenty of us who had gathered made our way to the elevators, only to find that they were out of operation.  _ Not good. _ Exchanging worried looks, we made our way to the nearest stairwell, Stairwell A. Somehow, the non-operational elevators had made us silently, yet unanimously, alter our objective to evacuating rather than investigating. 

Running as quickly as we could down the narrow stairwell, we arrived at the 78th floor a few minutes later. Hoping that the main elevators would still be working, I led the group out of the stairwell and into the lobby. 

And froze.

The lobby was completely destroyed. The walls were gone, the floor littered with debris. The air was filled with thick white smoke, fires burning in several areas with shocking intensity. Puddles had gathered on the floor, emitting a peculiar odor, and the ceiling had caved in in a number of locations. And what looked like human bodies were crumpled on the floor amongst the wreckage.  _ It looks like a… plane… crashed through here, _ I realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  _ We should have left earlier _ .

_ This wasn’t an accident. _

Jacob, a middle-aged gentleman who worked across the hall from Lilly and me, had knelt down by one of the crumpled figures. He shook his head, then approached another, before repeating the process. After checking five different people, he returned somberly to the rest of us. 

“They’re all dead… all of them,” he stated quietly. “Must have been killed almost instantly.”

“What do we do?”

For a moment, I had thought I might be sick. Lilly’s voice, thick with fear, helped me get ahold of myself. “We have to get out of here.”

Looking down the remains of Stairwell A, I thought it looked usable. “This way!” I called to the others, ushering the group down the stairs. Lilly slipped into the stairwell ahead of me, and I started to follow, bringing up the rear. Yet, as I started to descend the stairs, I saw once more, in my mind’s eye, the image Lilly had described of trapped people in the North Tower, waiting desperately for rescue. We could do nothing for them, but what if there were people still above us in the South Tower, unaware that there was a way out? They couldn’t wait forever, not with fires raging in the building. But then, surely, the firefighters could handle the situation, couldn’t they? Putting out blazes and rescuing people was their job, not mine. 

“Elen, come on!” I looked down at Lilly, realizing I’d stopped on the first stair. It would be so easy to follow the group, to walk away, to take care of myself…

_ Starrs don’t do what’s easy. They do what’s right. _ My father’s rang in my head, repeating what had become his mantra after his own crisis of integrity. Descended from a family of patriots, including a signer of the Declaration of Independence, a member of the Marshall Court, and a lifetime suffragette, my father had lived this motto when he chose to face the consequences of his part in the Iran-Contra affair, refusing to take the Fifth. Just a young girl at the time, I hadn’t really understood what was happening. But now, surrounded by smoke and flames, Norman Starr’s words took on new, slightly terrifying meaning. I knew what I had to do.

Before I could lose my nerve, I slipped my bag off of my shoulder and pressed it into Lilly’s shaking hands.

“Elen, what-?” 

“I’m not leaving.” My stare bored into her eyes. “There might be people still trapped up there. Someone has to help.”

“But-”

“Go! Take my bag; call my parents if I don’t make it out.”

“Elen, don’t say that! Look, if you’re staying, then I’m staying with you.”

“No, Lil. You’re engaged, you have too much at stake. You have to go!”

“Elen-”

“ _ Go!” _ I pushed her towards the darkness into which the others had vanished, then turned and began to climb in the other direction. To my relief, after a few moments, I heard her footsteps descending the stairwell. As I climbed, I wondered if I was crazy to do this.  _ No, _ I told myself firmly.  _ You’re doing the right thing. _

Working my way upwards, I checked the 79th, 80th, and 81st floors as quickly as I could, finding a handful of frightened but only mildly injured people whom I directed down Stairwell A. As I climbed, I found that the smoke was thickening on these higher floors, forcing me to breathe through my cardigan. Emerging onto the 82nd floor, however, I found myself in a new situation. Spotting several figures barely visible through the smoke, I carefully picked my way across the room, which thankfully had few fires. 

“Hey! Over here!” I called. As I approached, I saw that the group consisted of two young women, who appeared to be identical twins, and a young man with a pained expression. They looked at me with a mixture of fear and relief when they noticed me. 

“Stairwell A is open,” I informed them. “You should all start down; I don’t know how much longer they’ll be passable.”

One of the young women shook her dark head. “My boyfriend sprained his ankle when the plane hit,” she told me tearfully. “He can’t make it down the stairs.”

I hesitated for a moment, then remembered my cardigan. Pulling it off, I handed it to the woman. “Tie this around his ankle to support it. We’ll help him down.”

The woman took the cardigan gratefully, and did as I had suggested. Both she and her sister were of small stature, so it fell to me to support the tall young man as we made our way down the stairs. I had never been so glad to have inherited my father’s height instead of my mother’s slight frame.

The trip down to the sky lobby was nerve-wracking, the building creaking alarmingly and the smoke only growing thicker. At one point, the air grew almost painfully hot, yet by God’s grace, we encountered no flames in the stairwell. Still, if the conditions were this bad  _ above _ the point of impact, I couldn’t imagine how we’d make it once we’d passed that point, as the going would surely be more treacherous. With the stairs barely wide enough to accommodate two people side-by-side, supporting the young man, Steven, was a taxing effort, but we couldn’t stop and rest; the stairs sounded ready to give out.

As we reached the 78th floor, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I expected to see rescue workers, so I was surprised to see a young man in dust-coated civilian clothes, with a red bandanna tied over his nose and mouth, emerge from the haze. Upon seeing us, he asked “Do you need help?”

“Please,” I asked, “his ankle’s sprained, and he needs help getting downstairs. I don’t think I can support him much longer. If you could-?”

Before I even finished my request, the man in the red bandanna moved to support Steven, and I shifted to let him take my place. “Follow me down. I’ll get you to other rescue workers who can get you out.”

As he started down the stairs, Steven and the sisters in tow, I turned to go back up. 

“Wait! Where are you going?”

Pausing, I looked back to see one of the young women staring at me in confusion. The man in the bandanna urged, “Come on, hurry! We have to get you all out of here!”

I shook my head. “No,” I stated flatly. “Get them to safety. There may still be people up there, and I’m not leaving until I know everyone else is out.”

“Look,” the man pressed. “There are rescue workers coming. Let them do their jobs. You should get out while you can.”

I held my ground, met his gaze. “Will you?”

“I-,” He looked away, then back at me. I could tell that he understood. “Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.” 

“You either.”

I turned and began to climb the stairs again, my earlier jog slowed to a rapidly trudging walk by exhaustion. Yet somehow, I found the energy to push onward, tapping into strength I didn’t know I had. Somehow, I made it to the 83rd floor, the 84th, the 85th. After sending down a rattled but unharmed group from the 83rd floor, and a battered group from the 84th, I’d found no one else for what felt like years, but was most likely only a few minutes. Wiping my forehead, and then the dusty yet still intact face of my watch, I checked the time. Despite the dust filling the air and clogging my lungs, my watch was still ticking along. 9:58. This ordeal had not yet lasted an hour, but it seemed like sitting in the office with Lilly must have occurred in another lifetime. Wearily, I started to climb the interminable stairs once more.

I was only a third of the way to the next floor when a colossal rumbling began to emanate from somewhere below me. The building swayed, as though the earth itself were trying to shake the South Tower apart. Cracks ruptured along the walls of the stairwell. A sudden, cold certainty settled over my heart, yet, somehow, I was at peace. Maybe I’d finally get to ask old Jared Starr about the Constitutional Convention.

_ For my family. For my country.  _

_ For safety. For freedom. _

My stomach seemed to drop away as a sense of falling gripped me.

_ A Starr does what’s right, not what’s easy. _

The world went black.

  
  


Yet, in the darkness, a Starr will shine.

This is our legacy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you're not too depressed now...
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments if you feel so compelled- they're great motivators!


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